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My little brother, I remember the first time I saw you. You were the twin brought home first. Marc stayed an extra week in the hospital because he was so small. Twins, but not identical. You were in a crib in Mom and Dad’s room, swaddled in a baby blanket. Mom was resting in bed. The room was dark and Dad and I tiptoed in to see the new baby brother. I had to wear a mask so as not to breath any germs onto you. Aww, sweet little bundle.
So many memories of two little boys playing together, fighting together, plotting together. I was often baby sitter. We all sat on the floor watching Howdy Doodie, waiting for Mom to get home from work.
I remember once, taking my little brothers on the bus to downtown Public Square, probably to see the Christmas decoration in the May Co. or Halli’s department store windows. Snow was falling and it was eerily quiet as we walked from Delray St. to the bus stop. It seemed like magic, the three of us watching the flakes fall into the silence.
I remember being with Mom at her office, it must have been a school break, when we got a frantic call from Jimmy, the women who took care of you, that you had cut yourself and she was taking you to the emergency room. Mom and I raced to the hospital. Some boys had been bullying Marc and had locked him in a neighbor’s garage. You’d punched your fist through the window to open the lock and get Marc out of there.
I remember so many little moments, little flashes of the past. Sitting in the breakfast nook, playing on the swings in the backyard, taking you and Marc to Ted’s for a hamburger and feeling very smart that I knew to leave a dime on the table as a tip for the waitress.
I remember your wedding and your love for Marget as you introduced her into the family. So many special times to remember.
I remember, of coarse, Holiday events, like the Thanksgiving in Cleveland when we passed the turkey, then the tofu turkey you had made and we all laughed, enjoying the feast and each other.
I remember when Dara picked Ithica to go to college. I panicked at the thought of my “Baby” going so far off. But you assured me, you were only an hour away. You showed up for her on parents’ day, saw the play she directed as a freshman, visited her and let her store stuff in your attic. Thank you, Dear. I will never forget your loving spirt.
I remember discussing Gurdjieff and meditation with you. Going to Art Museums with you. You were quite the Modern Art lover.
And I remember a party at Marc’s when you described in detail to Dara and me the dangers of eating such unhealthy ingredients like the frosting on the cake. Then the cake was passed out and you took a piece and ate it. Dara and I looked at each other, laughed and did the same.
I remember my birthday when I walked into my kitchen and there you were. A wonderful surprise! I remember being in Rochester and going with you to the college class you taught. Your students really appreciated you.
My Dear Chuck, I remember. And I will always remember with love. It is so hard to say Goodbye. In my heart, there is no Goodbye, just very fond memories of a beautiful soul.
Copyright 2013 Arlyn Serber